


Perfect Weapon, Perfect Lover

by whisperingelf



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: The Masked Empire
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Consensual, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Light Bondage, Scratching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-06 00:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4201185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperingelf/pseuds/whisperingelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helping run the most powerful empire in Thedas from the shadows is quite a lot of work for the young Briala. That is why what few moments she can spare alone with Empress Celene are so precious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Weapon, Perfect Lover

Perfect Weapon, Perfect Lover

  Briala nearly dropped her basket as an empty wine bottle skittered by her feet to smash in the dirt. The shem who had thrown it glared daggers at her from the other side of the road, his eyes narrowing with accusation and disgust as he drew his bony wife closer. Equally hostile, the woman’s hands visibly tightened on her broom and spat in Briala's direction. The hot summer wind carried with it word of an endemic within the local alienage, leading to the elves of Val Falaise being treated even worse than they normally were, equated to disease-carrying vermin.

  "Shouldn't that one be locked up with the rest?" The man grunted, jerking a callused thumb at her.

  Normally, a pair of hollow-eyed peasants wouldn't have scared her, but if the city guard was called then to the alienage she would be dragged after a beating at the least. So after shooting the peasants as withering of a look she could manage, the elf quickened her step.  Though she very well should have been, it was very hard to be afraid with the comforting sounds of a town coming awake all around her, the smell of fresh bread baking and the warm kiss of summer sunlight upon her skin. Perhaps the disparity between this sleepy agricultural town and the bustle of Val Royeaux was why Celene had chosen this place as her respite. 

  Celene. Funny how just the thought of her cheered Briala so much even though she was walking away from having just killed a child. But by The Game Orlesians lived and died, so it was alright. As she could attest to, innocents getting caught up in grand sweeps of power was nothing new. And besides, for her beautiful Empress and the power that came with being her blade in the crowd Briala would do anything. Giving poison to servants for them to kill a Comtess’ son was nothing. Only a slight hiccup in Celene’s plan for spending as much time with Briala as possible, here in the countryside away from so many critical eyes. 

  “You there, rabbit!” She should have known better than to go all misty-eyed, even in a back alley like this. The basket thrown in a gutter and forgotten, Briala kept her hand at the hilt of her hidden dirk the entire trip back to the safety of palace walls.

* * *

  Even with all of her bardic training and Briala was still nervous upon her return to the summer palace. She could lie imperceptibly; keep her face a mask of stone when afraid and laugh in the face of danger. Withstanding torture, now those had been unpleasant lessons, but Briala had endured them all the same. If protecting the secrets of the empire required her to die, and she was not the one stealing them away in the first place, then she would find a way to take her life. Being the secret hand of the Empress required such skills as much as knowing how her mistress liked her tea. In the bustling palace kitchen now, the tight knots of the sugar bag being no trouble for her nimble elven fingers she added a spoonful of the white powder along with dash of honeysuckle nectar to the steaming kettle. Though she far outranked all the staff in this kitchen, no one paid her any mind. Everywhere she went, her ears were the perfect disguise, making her just another piece of furniture, no more worthy of notice then a pretty marble statue.

   Irritated by his undue observation of her hindquarters Briala directed an order at one of the human servant boys who was idling by the table with a spoon in one hand. "Her Majesty's breakfast is to be ready by quarter to seven. So you better replace that broom with a spoon and get to work."Hoisting the ornate tea set she stared down her underling's look of affront: even he, a commoner, wasn't used to being told off by an elf.

  The palace, though built for the express purpose of being enjoyed in the summer, was dark and humid at this early hour. Every hallway felt thick with the scent of flowers from the central garden, oversweet air wafting in through the heavy lancet windows.  Hurrying out of anticipation of returning to Celene as much as wanting to escape this heat Briala ignored the sweat prickling unpleasantly under her arms and made her way to the Imperial bedchamber.

  Though the original structure had been built by the Emperor Judicael Valmont I in 8:60 Blessed, the curved ceilings found in this room were still as fashionable as they had been back in his day. The floor was of pearly white stone, polished so brightly that it could have been glass. The walls were hung with great paintings of religious figures in all their glory. The ceiling was crusted with flowers and leaves carved so finely that they almost looked real, except the dim light eking in through the windows revealed them to be made of gold and laden with various jewels. On Celene's bedside a shard of enchanted ice from the Frostback Basin rested in the arms of a golden Andraste, making the Empress' chamber at least tolerable in temperature.  The fabulous decoration rendered mundane by living in a palace ever since she was young, Briala tiptoed into the room and set about getting rid of her prop. The dainty table gave a lurch as she placed the tea set down, its role already fulfilled.

  The curtains were drawn back from Celene’s grand bed, and there in the middle of a decorative marble colonnade the Empress lay, her sleeping form wreathed with the gilded light of early dawn. Her nerves finally easing out of the tight ball they had been coiled in all morning Briala wasted no time in disrobing. With a few concise movements the elven woman shrugged off her surplice and tunic and kicked the ugly things under the bed. Very soon they would make their way to a dishwasher in the form of rags. Feeling like a character out of a fairytale she left the stone floor, regrettably cool under feet, and clambered up onto the monstrous bed. The first thing she did was kiss the sleeping empress ever so softly, their lips barely touching at all. Celene's eyelids fluttered, a serene smile curving her lips as she raised two pale arms and had them languidly snake around Briala’s waist.

  "Bria." 

  Her name is uttered as a murmur, a prayer.

  Heart aching with a sudden swell of tenderness Briala watched the Empress blink away what remained of her dreams. With a rustling of fabric Briala let herself be guided into sitting on the other’s hips. So close the sweet blend of lavender and sleep was intoxicating. Her eyes finally focusing and coming to rest at Briala’s, icy blue to sable, Celene leaned in to kiss her elven lover again, to which Briala responded with unbridled enthusiasm. Lips still tingling she suddenly broke away, and with her arms now draped around Celene's shoulders and their breasts pleasantly nestled together did she roll over onto the cushy expanse of Nevarran cotton to settle by her side. This was their private refuge, two castaways in a tumultuous sea. The elf sank into bliss so perfect that she would not mind if she drowned in it.

  "My Bria…is it done?"

   "Yes your Radiance-" She couldn't keep the slightest tinge of mockery from her address. "-Comtess Tereza will give you no more trouble."

  It was the Comtess' eldest son who had died today, and with her younger children already shipped off to the Chantry the old bat was now childless, toothless. When a noble grumbled at Celene's reforms too loudly or mistreated their elven citizens too badly sometimes it was their children who paid the price in blood. Such was the way of The Game.

  "Good." Her muscles giving a simultaneous shiver the Empress disentangled herself, responding to Briala's curious look by playfully pushing the elven woman onto her back and into the thick feather pillows.  As graceful as a cat the woman perched herself, one strap of corded silk slipping down her shoulder, so that she was straddling her elven lover. Her hands wound their way into Briala's cinnamon - coloured curls, even a fool being able to tell that she wanted to pull them. But instead of looking like she wanted a repeat of last night her features were pinched with thought. "Her replacement will be more sympathetic to your cause; our cause. That, and loyal to me instead of clinging to fusty old Florian' s memory."

  Briala stifled a grin. Tereza was looked up to by the nobles for her... ingenuity in dealing with her elven population, by forcing them to work for their food in her famous vineyards. But no more. No more would her people be so nakedly exploited and used to make some idiot human rich.

  "I will double my number of agents around the new Comte Etienne before you appoint him, mistress." Wanting to keep the other from spinning off in one of her characteristic circles of worry she touches a hand to Celene's perfect thigh, thoughtfully skimming up its slight curve until she reaches the hem of the Empress' chemise. "If you worry too much, love-" She pursed her lips to briefly puff one of the segments of shining golden hair that cascaded from Celene's precious head. "-your beautiful hair will turn just as gray as Florian's."

 "We can't have that." The Empress preened.

   She seizes a handful of what little the elf is wearing and tugs the delicate fabric up over Briala's head, freeing her full breasts while entrapping her arms and dislodging the one from her thigh. Smiling fiercely celene wastes no time in tracing spirals up to firm, dusky nipples, rubbing them with the palms of her hands. Here the elf ' s skin is the colour of light brown sugar, and just as sweet. Briala is about to either thank or tease Celene for this when the Empress pushes her lips upon hers, like on that night only two years ago, but many things have changed since then and she can reciprocate now, she can overcome the thrill of Celene's kiss to return it, and with a moan no less. After giving a slip of tongue Celene pulls away, pulling her own chemise off over her head as quickly and enthusiastically as an apprentice mage revealing the apple they had conjured beneath a cloth.

  "Your Radiance is wicke-" Briala's hiss is cut off with a gasp as Celene resumes the careful motions by first giving her a firm pinch. There was a faint colour to her freckled cheeks now, her lips slightly parted to reveal a chipped front tooth (from fighting off an assassin many years ago), and the lines of her jaw, stretched-out neck and collarbones, so much more delicate than a human's, we're etched with shadow. , a sheen of sweat beginning to form over the skin of her rapidly rising and falling cutest. Celene would very much like to rest her head there later. Her icy blue eyes hooded with desire, the Empress' voice comes out low. "You wound me." To further her lover's helplessness she wriggles her weight down Briala’s legs to sit upon her ankles weight back on to the elf's , so that she is entirely trapped. "For ask any Revered Mother and they'll say-" Celene made a show of bending herself so that her face was centimeters from Briala's most tender flesh. "-that I am a pious woman."

  From then on she renews her attack with a passionate ferocity, raking two long trails down Briala's side with eight perfect nails. The elf whimpers with actual pain, but lets it roll down into the feeling she now gets from Celene's lips eagerly kissing the dip beneath her right hip bone. Even with her mind clouded by excitement Briala reflected that they seemed to be past their days of fumbling experimentation. Even though Celene had received the finest education on everything a fine noblewoman and thus valuable bride one day may need to know, her books hadn't offered anything on how to do it with another woman.

  Whatever apperceptive thoughts she may have been entertaining vanished like smoke on the wind, however,  when Celene roughly spread Briala's slender legs and then, after checking at the last moment to see the elf still very much in favor of it, pressed her tongue inside. Her tongue rasped against the sensitive flesh of Briala’s folds, and then gave way to her lips suckling Briala's clit. The elven woman seized a handful of sheets, not trusting herself to make a sound.  But Celene did not stop there. Along with her tongue she now slipped in a finger, moving it in shallow thrusts as she continued to suck and lick at Briala’s clit. The elf couldn’t help herself now, beginning to buck her hips as she tried to keep up with the pace. Far from the little mews that could be expected from such a petite woman, she grunted in sighed in her throat, and Celene did the same.

  "Bria." Cooed Celene, her warm breath rustling the dark curls which her face was pressed  into .The elven woman twisted suddenly, her hips surging forwards, the opposing restraint of her arms causing some of the lace to rip.  She felt her eyes snap upwards to the Maker or Mythal or whoever the hell was watching, a single, feminine note of pure pleasure torn from her throat as she shuddered with the force of her orgasm. Celene forsakes her position between her lover's legs and creeps up beside her, kissing Briala one more time, while the taste of her lingers. Panting, the elf is only then aware of how much she had been struggling in the bonds and tossing her hear, for her wrists ache and her hair felt like it was hopelessly knotted.

  "I love you, Celene." The Empress was helping her hands out of the ruined brassiere, and stopped for a moment to beam at her.

  "And I, you."

  Briala's desire to wind down is palpable, which is why Celene doesn't expect her freeing an arm with a quick twist of her elbow, successfully evading Celene’s clumsy grab for it and letting it come to rest on the Empress’ groin, where she  rubs at her gently. Fervor renewed, the Empress' mouth gormlessly licked and sucked at hers, smearing spit on her face as she pushed herself against the hand between her legs. With a sort of squeaking gasp her willowy frame lurches against Briala, and for a few moments their bodies are once again fused by bonds of love and lust and an impossible future. There was something about Briala's presence that made her the only thing to guaranteed Celene rest, and feeling sleep approaching once more the Empress absently traced the curves of the pearls that were scattered across the canopy fabric like so many stars. If these had been the days of old, her court would have occupied this room even while she slept, or tried to sleep, with nothing but the curtains between them. She didn't want to be thinking of her court right now. "You are the most amazing creature I have ever had the honour of knowing." Briala's tapered ears were such a pleasure to whisper sweet nothings into.

  The elf's affront was immediate, that perfect moment of happiness between them lost. “Damn it, Celene!"

  “It was but a poor choice of words, my love.”  Even though she is possessed by the kind of misery only Briala can inflict, the Empress was still as radiant as the moon she was named for. Though, after her recent exertion, not nearly as pale. “I am a creature of the Maker’s creation, the Divine is, nugs are..." Briala didn’t think it a good time to bring it up that she no longer believed in Him. Not after the callous slaughter of her family. But by Celene’s hurried backtracking she was not appeased. It was difficult, though, to be angry with Celene as she was hunched there on the bed, exuding a profound loneliness.

  "You cannot fuck me and dehumanize me at the same time." Another poor choice of words. Her lip, swollen though it was, curled with anger, and she knew that her cat-like pupils had contracted into luminous points. More so than anger she was wounded, for it stung to be put down by the woman who had the key to her heart. "So which one is it, Celene? Am I your lover, or just a dirty animal that's good for a cheap thrill?" Occasionally, the latter feeling would wallow up in their normal day-to-day anyways, like a bloated corpse rising to the surface of a lake, unwanted and unbidden, while one was having a picnic. When the chatalaine had an elven servant whipped for being groped by a soldier. When some gaudy lord had veiled his flirtations too thinly. The more she thought about it the more nauseated she felt, and drawing one of the sheets that had cost more money than an alienage elf made in a year around her shoulders she roughly moved to escape the bed.

  "Of course you know you're more than that!" Her voice thready with desperation Celene was beginning to sound a tad hysterical. Briala the bard wanted to punish Her Majesty for the transgression and draw this out, but she shoved the idea away, ashamed that it had even crossed her mind. When she caught sight of a stylized white deer in one of the dark paintings across the room was reminded of how much she loved this woman, how fragile the heart she held really was. And with so many people who would be happy to make it stop beating, spoiling a perfect day like this would truly be a travesty. Her flash of anger fading she turned on her heel and sank back into the bed where her senses where full of the finest luxury, that is, the one that she loved most. The indentation in the sheets was still warm and Celene immediately folded herself around her. A hint of unshed tears glimmered in the Empress' eyes, and she blinked them back as Briala began to caress her soothingly. "I couldn't live without you either." She breathed. It mattered not that this bliss would soon end, and Celene once again consigned to her throne of lies and painted smiles. for whenever she turned Briala would always be there. A lone elf her as knife in the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this couple isn't entirely healthy (the events of TME come to mind) but I just had to get this out.


End file.
